


Painting by Water

by MadcapShambleton



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: M/M, Selkie AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 10:54:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12910431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadcapShambleton/pseuds/MadcapShambleton
Summary: So this is a chapter that I wrote as an assignment for uni (I had to set it in my hometown, hence the place names), and I figured I may as well put it up here cause why not. I might continue writing this, I have some ideas about where it's going and I think it's okay, if a very short chapter. We'll see.





	Painting by Water

          There’s a fine rain pelting his face as he walks briskly to the coffee shop. Vince supposes he ought to be a fan of the rain, what with being a selkie and all, but in his human form the dampness is uncomfortable and entirely too cold for this time of year. Maritime weather is the worst. He pulls the (unfortunately not waterproof) faux fur coat tighter around himself, attempting to retain some degree of dryness. If only he had his own fur coat, it’s so much warmer and better at repelling water. But with his habit of forgetting things everywhere it’s much too dangerous to wear it casually. There’s no way he’s going to be stuck on land in human form forever because of something as simple as leaving his coat somewhere and having it end up in someone else’s hands. Luckily he doesn’t have that far to walk, and it isn’t long before he slips into the warmth and dryness of Wentworth Perk. The name had amused him when the coffee shop first opened—it was a play on Wentworth Park, which was just across the street—and it still brings a small smile to his face every time he sees it.

            It’s a nice enough place, serving pretty good (although honestly a little over-priced) drinks and baked goods, and he’s a fan of the lime green exterior and dandelion yellow walls of the building that make it the most exciting looking place in the area. But that’s not why he’s here. The café occasionally serves as a tiny art gallery and he’s been asked to exhibit some of his work. To be honest, he’s not sure where they heard of him, or why they liked his stuff, but he needs the exposure—and the money if he’s lucky enough that anything actually sells. He has no idea how often any of the art that decorates the sunshiny walls ends up sold, and he doesn’t have high hopes. But getting his name out there is definitely a big help, so he figures it’s worth his time either way. The line of people ordering peters out, so he makes his way to the counter.

            “Alright?” he asks the barista with a grin.

            “I’m good, yeah, how can I help you?”

            “I’m Vince, I was contacted about exhibiting some paintings here,” he says, not meaning for his voice to turn up at the end making it sound like a question. It does anyway.

            “Oh, of course!” she extends a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet with you, Vince. I’m Christine. What can I do for you?”

            “Like wise,” he says, accepting the handshake. “I mostly just wanted to get a feel for the space, see how many paintings and what sizes would work best and all that.” Christine steps out from behind the counter and guides him around the small space, talking about what others have done in the past and what tends to do well, but ultimately leaving it all up to him. He ends up buying a hot chocolate and tips her generously for her time, then settles into a little table in the back corner to think (and to put off going back into the rain). He stares out the window at the grey sky, running through a mental catalogue of his work, trying to see if anything that looked like a coherent series would fit on the limited wall space. Maybe he ought to paint some new stuff. No, it’s meant to go up in just a couple of days, there’s no time for that. Although he could probably get away with just one if it would pull together a handful of other paintings… A swim would definitely help him figure things out—he always has his best ideas when he dons his seal skin and sneaks out into the water, transforming into his true self. It’s not that he doesn’t like being a human as well, but the feeling of water rushing around his silky fur as he propels himself with his powerful flippers is second to none. There’s a lot of downsides to being a selkie in the modern world, but he wouldn’t change it for anything.

            He’s drawn from his thoughts as the bell over the door jingles and a mismatched but distinctly artsy group of people file inside. He recognizes a few faces from a couple of local plays he’s been to. Theatre people, then. It must be time for Shakespeare in the Park again, but surely they weren’t rehearsing in this weather? The general dampness of the otherwise chipper group contradicted him. He shook his head, both confused and impressed by their dedication, before pulling a miniature sketchbook out of his pocket and beginning a quick drawing of the Perk’s floor plan, determined to make some headway on his plans before heading home. He does make a bit of progress as the actors chatter loudly across the shop, the door jingling a number of times as they collect their drinks and leave. Things fall quiet once again. He’s done a few sketches now, debating which walls ought to have big statement pieces and where it would be better to have a number of smaller ones. The task has him so engrossed that he doesn’t notice the arrival of a straggler from the theatre troupe until the man trips over his chair leg, startling him half to death. Vince grabs the falling man’s arm reflexively to stop him from landing on his face.

            “Don’t touch me!” he snaps, shaking off Vince’s hand the moment he rights himself, before continuing on to the bathroom at the back of the café without so much as a look in Vince’s direction let alone an apology. Vince just stares into the space where the man had been for a minute, unsure of what just happened. That was well weird, he decides, and takes a long drink of his (long since cold) hot chocolate. Something about the guy’s voice had been familiar, but he hadn’t got enough of a look at his face to figure out how or if he knew him. He figures it’s time to leave anyway and downs the rest of his drink, wincing at the unexpectedly bitter chocolate residue in the bottom. The last sip was enough to ruin even a good hot chocolate, but he never seemed to learn his lesson. He brings his cup to the dirty dish bucket, nearly colliding with the broad frame of the same man as he turns around to head out. This time he raises his hands, holding them back to avoid any accidental contact, and the man grimaces.

            “I, err, sorry about that,” he says, his voice a pleasant rumble that Vince feels almost certain he’s heard before. “Tripping over you a minute ago, that it. And almost running into you just now as well, I suppose…” the degree of embarrassment radiating from the poor guy makes Vince feel bad for him, and the earlier weirdness is instantly forgiven.

            “Don’t sweat it, these things happen. It’s already forgotten.” The man doesn’t look even remotely comforted, and Vince can’t help but like the awkward stranger. He grins up at the definitely-familiar-but-not-quite-able-to-place-it face before ducking his head and making his way to the door. On an impulse he turns and calls over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, yeah?” The man actually drops his change all over the floor in response and Vince feels a little guilty but laughs to himself anyway.

            It’s stopped raining by now which he’s grateful for and it’s even warmed up enough that he takes his coat off for the second half of his walk home. That’ll be good for the actors, if they’re still rehearsing. He’s not quite sure why he cares. He turns on the TV when he gets in and collapses on the couch. There’s a lot to do, but most of the walk had been uphill so he figures he deserves a few minutes to rest first. Just for a bit…

            He doesn’t realize he’s dozed off until a familiar voice jolts him awake. He sits up, rubbing his eyes as he tries to locate the intruder before identifying the source of the voice as the TV, specifically a commercial for a local furniture store. Sure enough, staring at him from the screen was the man from the Perk. That’s why Vince knew him—he’s the Schwartz guy! Vince starts to cackle. It’s a terrible commercial, the kind of thing someone would only do if they were desperate for the money. No wonder the guy was so uncomfortable around people. But he had a name to put with the face now—Howard Moon, although judging by the sound of it, it might just be a stage name. Either way, the commercial makes Howard even more endearing to Vince, and part of him hopes they do cross paths again. He has too much work to get done to risk another accidental nap, so he pushes off of the couch and gets on with it, sketching and painting into the early hours of the morning.

            Figuring that it’s a ridiculous enough time that the park should be empty and dark he puts on his seal skin cot and slips outside. This is always exhilarating to him, the walk down to the water under cover of night, outwardly human but just minutes away from becoming something else entirely. Things seem more magical at night and he loves being a part of it, even if nobody gets to see him. The water at the park just feeds in from the harbour and it’s not the most glamourous place to swim, but it’s convenient and does the trick in a pinch. As he approaches the water now, he surveys the area carefully to make sure there are no onlookers. Satisfied that he’s alone, he quickly slides into the cold water and lets the magic take over. The transformation is a euphoric feeling, followed by the pure animalistic freedom that hits as he becomes a seal and propels himself forward, startling some ducks as he does. There’s nothing better in the world, he’s sure of it. He stays as long as he dares, climbing onto the rocks dripping wet and human again only as the sky threatens to brighten for the day. He sits there for a minute to catch his breath and dry off a little. Feeling infinitely more alive and inspired he retreats to get some sleep, dripping on the sidewalk all the way. A nagging feeling like eyes on the back of his neck follows him home. He was careful and he’s sure it’s nothing, but still…maybe he ought to lie low for a bit. Just in case.


End file.
